


Of Honeymoons and Howls

by Aquelon



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), aphmau - Fandom
Genre: (the fanfiction), AND MCD Rights!, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mystreet said MCD Rights!, Starlight and WAF, aND Mystreet Rights., by which I mean, completely screwed over, diaries tags used again for simplicity, donna and logan get, so I said Dogan Rights!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-22 07:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquelon/pseuds/Aquelon
Summary: Starlight Wonderland, the cheesiest resort you can get.  That's the description Donna's adoptive sister Michi gave when she recommended the place for Donna and Logan's pre-honeymoon.Donna and Logan go on a romantic vacation to Starlight Wonderland.





	Of Honeymoons and Howls

**Author's Note:**

> This work is closely connected to the one about Michi that I just posted: "The Felixons (lead messy lives)" Check it out in either order!
> 
> Have you ever thought about Minecraft Diaries and how... Certain Parts Of It would translate into MyStreet? Well...
> 
> Chapter count is an approximation.

Starlight Wonderland, the cheesiest resort you can get. That's the description Donna's adoptive sister Michi gave when she recommended the place for Donna and Logan's pre-honeymoon. On closer inspection, Donna had to agree that it seemed perfect, and so finally the soon-to-be couple were sitting side by side in a plane that was docking at the resort.

  
"We're almost here," Logan says, trying to squish up to the window over Donna, who's also staring out the window, while also trying to pretend he's not doing that.

  
"Yeah!" Donna takes in the palm trees, the resort houses, the rollercoasters in the distance, the beaches full of people, and the apartment-style housing that the two of them are going to be staying in-- everything else was booked solid for much longer, but the apartment complex actually had a few empty spots. It's different from Phoenix Drop and the house she dubbed "Babe House" and shared with her friends Molly and Emma, that's for sure. Donna squeezes Logan's hand excitedly and leans her chair back so he can get a better look at the view.

  
The apartment they've got is one of the smaller ones, but it's very nice. It looks out over the water, all the way to a little island in the middle of the crescent-shaped resort that has some building on it. Donna's not sure what it's for, but if she squints she can make out some teal symbol on the side of it. She starts unpacking her stuff while Logan finishes looking around the apartment. "They have really nice showers!"

  
"Worth the entire ticket price!" Donna yells back, picking out a blue and grey tankini from her bag and starting to put things onto hangers. Logan comes in, grabs some red board shorts and a grey swim shirt, and starts putting away his stuff.

  
Once they're finished unpacking, they start heading down to the beach when Donna's phone goes off.

  
"It's mom," she says, checking the caller ID with a sense of slowly growing dread.

  
"Well," Logan says sympathetically, "no use putting it off."

  
"Yeah." Donna hits the pick up button.

  
"I'm having some trouble finding the right priest, but I'll keep looking." Urla Felixon, Donna's mother, loves cats and nothing else, but has been trying to be 'helpful' in preparation for Donna's wedding. She's being a bit too controlling for Donna's tastes. "There's this nice church up by Scaleswind that I think is perfect--"

  
"Mom, I appreciate it, but I already said I want it to be a beach wedding," Donna says.

  
"--and I've been looking at the dresses they have available. They make them so fancy these days. It's ridiculous." Urla keeps rambling for a few more minutes, and then concludes with, "I'll call you back soon!" She hangs up the phone.

  
"What was it?" Logan asks.

  
"The usual," Donna says. "She found another church that she likes, again, and she wanted to get me a really plain white dress, which ain't what I want at all."

  
"What kind of dress do you want?" Logan asks as they make their way onto the beach.

  
Donna stops, gasps a little. "I don't know what kind of dress I want!"

  
There's a moment of silence during which Logan realizes how important this is to Donna. "We've got plenty of time to figure it out," he offers.

  
"Yeah," Donna says. She walks onto the beach. "Yeah. Hey, last one in the water's a rotten egg!" She dashes across the sand with Logan hot on her heels and jumps into the ocean.

  
They spend the rest of the day in the water. When they get back to the resort, Donna starts looking up dresses.

  
"This flame patterned one looks cool," she says, digging through a catalogue.

  
"It does," Logan says, though it sounds like he's trying not to sound skeptical and almost succeeding. "I like the idea of a suit dress, like--" he leans over her shoulder to point-- "that one. But it's your choice."

  
"Maybe," Donna says.

  
A few days and so many phone calls from Donna's mom later, there's a surfing class going on, and Donna and Logan sign up for it.

  
"It's just surfing," Logan says, looking at the small waves on the inside of the crescent-shaped island. "How hard could it be?"

  
They round the corner of the point and see the somewhat more wild sea on the outside of the island. A very tall wave crashes over not that far offshore.

  
"Okay then," Logan says.

  
"It's, uh, it'll be fine," Donna says. "They wouldn't let things get out of control at a place like this."

  
Paddling away from the shore, Logan is still nervous. "Some of those waves are very big!"

  
"Yeah," says Donna, "it's actually sort of awesome! Babe, you'll be fine."

  
"Yeah," Logan says.

  
Donna starts to stand up, gets to her feet, and wobbles trying to keep her balance. Logan tries to get up, almost slips, and lies down on the board again.

  
He takes a moment to catch his breath, looks around for Donna-- she's already surfed off to somewhere-- and tries to stand up again. This time he makes it onto his feet.

  
"Okay," he mutters under his breath, trying to stay standing and wobbling back and forth, "what now?" His core muscles are getting a workout.

  
He tries to look around, but then starts to lean precariously backwards, so he focuses on not falling over, looking down at the board intently.

  
Finally he starts to get his balance. He looks up, and then looks down past the edge of the board, and... oh.

  
He's really high up. Right on the edge of a cresting wave. He tries to keep his balance and not go over the edge, and then falls through the wave.

  
As he falls, surfboard trailing behind him, he hears Donna yell, "Logan!"

  
He lands, not in the water, but in Donna's arms. She falls backwards from the impact, falls off her surfboard, which shoots forward and collides with Logan's, and both of them land in the water.

  
Logan starts treading water as soon as he realizes he's underwater. Donna also starts treading water, and they pull up to the surface.

  
"That was... wild," Logan says, soaking wet and out of breath.

  
"Yeah, it really was," Donna says. They're in the shallows enough to touch the bottom. She looks up abruptly. "Our surfboards are still out there!"

  
"We should get those, right?" Logan says.

  
"You don't have to go back out there if you don't want to." Donna starts swimming out to where their surfboards are still floating.

  
"No, I'm coming too." Logan follows her.

  
Later, relaxing on the beach after returning their surfboards, Donna starts thinking about dresses again. "There was a teal one with ribbons in one of those catalogues that was really nice."

  
"Yeah?" Logan asks, mostly sunbathing and trying to dry off.

  
"Yeah," Donna says. "It was pencil skirt styled."

  
"Sounds nice," Logan says.

  
When they get back to their apartment, there's a missed call from Donna's mom with a message.

  
"You don't have to check it," Logan points out.

  
"Yeah, but I might as well." Donna hits play on the message.

  
"I've been looking at caterers, and all of the really good ones are so costly but I couldn't accept anything less." Donna's mom's voice crackles out of the phone. "I think I've found the perfect one, and I also found an excellent church in Meteli. I--"

  
"It's ten minutes long," Donna says as the message continues to play. She turns it off.

  
The next day, Donna and Logan hit up the shops. Most of the stores in the resort are along a stretch of boardwalk overlooking the ocean.

  
There's an ice cream parlour with an irritatingly long queue. Logan orders chocolate, while Donna gets mint chip.

  
"Hey, they also have faux-chocolate," Donna points out. "That's cool."

  
"It's fairly new," the store owner, a young woman with short red hair, says, overhearing Donna's observation, "but it tastes almost like the real thing!"

  
They sit in a booth together and eat the ice cream.

  
"Wow," says Logan, "this is the good stuff."

  
"Can I try some of yours?" Donna asks.

  
"Only if I can try some of yours," Logan says.

  
"Deal," says Donna.

  
They both lean across the little table to try each other's.

  
"That chocolate ice cream really is somethin'," Donna says.

  
"The mint one is also very good," says Logan.

  
"Yeah, but still." Donna licks up some ice cream that was about to drip onto the floor.

  
One of the other stores they check out is a fancy clothing store.

  
"Oooh, look at that green dress," says Donna, staring at its bright, almost neon folds.

  
"There's a matching tux," Logan points out. "But maybe it's a bit garish."

  
"Maaaybe," says Donna like she's not agreeing.

  
By the end of the day, Donna had bought four souvenir baseball caps and two sun hats, as well as all the ingredients for her specialty soup. Logan had bought Starlight t-shirts for both of them and a big tub of the chocolate ice cream, and had also signed himself up for a whole bunch of surfing lessons.

  
Donna's phone rings. She checks the caller ID, sees it's her mom, and ignores it. She ignores the twelve-minute message that shows up on her answering machine, too.

  
A few days later, they're having a day of relaxing on beach towels and looking out at the ocean. It is sunny and hot.

  
"You're gettin' pretty decent at surfing," Donna says.

  
"You're giving me too much credit," says Logan. "I still spend more time falling off the surfboard than staying on it."

  
"That's why I said 'decent' instead of 'good'." Donna elbows him jokingly, half rolling off her towel to reach. "No, but seriously, you're getting there, and I'm proud."

  
"Aww," says Logan, "than--"

  
Donna's phone rings.

  
"It's mom again," Donna says, cancelling the call.

  
They lie there in silence for a moment, and then Logan finishes his sentence. "Anyway, thanks babe, that's sweet."

  
"No problem," says Donna. There's another moment of silent sunbathing, and then she says, "Hey, look at the se--"

  
Her phone goes off again. She grumbles and ignores it.

  
"You were saying?" says Logan.

  
"It's kinda dumb, now that I think about it." Donna looks kind of embarrassed.

  
"Well, I still want to hear it," Logan says.

  
"I was saying that the seagulls looked really pretty from down here, that's all."

  
Logan looks up at the seagulls, swirling patterns of white high up against the bright blue sky. "They really do. Thanks for pointing that out."

  
"Aww, babe," says Donna.

  
There's another moment of silent seagull-gazing.

  
"Hey, that cloud looks like a turtle," Logan says.

  
"I guess it does," says Donna. "That one looks like a wolf."

  
"That one looks like three moose stacked on top of each other," says Logan.

  
"I don't see it," says Donna.

  
"See," Logan says, pointing, "the first moose is facing right, that bit is its antler. The second moose is facing the other way, so its butt is there and its head is over there, and the third moose is facing forward and also has a really big head. Those bits are its antlers."

  
Donna laughs brightly. "I never would've caught that, but huh. I see it now. That cloud over there looks like a crab in a top hat."

  
"True," says Logan, and then Donna's phone goes off again.

  
"Uuughhh," groans Donna, and goes to turn it off.

  
"What if it's something important, like, actually important for once?" Logan asks. "Usually she just leaves messages in the answering machine."

  
"Fine," Donna says, "next time she calls we'll pick up and check."

  
They go back to looking at clouds for a while.

  
"That one looks like a toaster," says Donna.

  
"That one looks like a sword," says Logan.

  
A few more minutes of this pass and Logan looks over at Donna. "Crud, did we remember to--"

  
Donna's phone goes off. Donna picks up grouchily and puts it on speakerphone.

  
Urla's voice through the phone sounds somewhat irritated. "What took you so long to pick up? Anyway, I found the perfect church in Falcon Claw, its old-style architecture is simply gorgeous and it seats at least--"

  
Logan silently mouths "Not important, hang up" at Donna.

  
"Mom," Donna says, equally irritated, "is there anything more urgent than that, or have you just been calling to talk about that?" There's a bit of venom in her voice at that last word.

  
"Of course," says Donna's mom. "I still can't find the perfect prie--"

  
Donna hangs up.

  
"Guess I was wrong about that," Logan says.

  
"Yeah," Donna says sulkily, "you sure were." She rolls over on the beach towel.

  
"Wait," Logan says, "before your mom called I remembered something. Did we put on sunscreen before we did this?"

  
Donna sits up quickly. "Crap, no we didn't!"

  
"Yeah, your face is pretty red," Logan says.

  
"Yours too!" Donna starts digging through her bag. "Did we even pack sunscreen today?"

  
"It totally slipped my mind!" Logan exclaims.

  
"We're probably going to have to run back to the apartment and grab some!" says Donna. "Yeah, it's not in here!"

  
"The apartment's a ways away; it'd probably be quicker to buy some!" says Logan.

  
Donna looks around. "There's a little booth over there that probably sells sunscreen!"

  
They both dash over there, Donna bringing the bag with her. "Do you sell sunscreen?" she asks, out of breath.

  
"Yeaaah," says the person managing the booth, a dark-haired mief'wa dude, pulling a tube of spray sunscreen off a rack. "It's five bucks."

  
"Great, thanks," Donna says, pulling a five-dollar bill out of her bag. "We'll take one."

  
"Step away from the booth when spraying it," the salesperson says, handing it over and putting the bill into the cash register.

  
They do so and Donna quickly starts applying sunscreen.

  
"Spray me next!" Logan holds out his arms and Donna sprays his front side thoroughly. "Hey, you got it all over my clothes!"

  
Donna finishes applying it to her arms, and then sprays some into her hands, passes the tube to Logan, and rubs the stuff on her hands onto her face. Logan finishes applying sunscreen and they make their way back to the towels.

  
"That was surprisingly fun," says Donna. "All things considered."

  
"Yeah," says Logan. "Let's see if they have any sunburn treatment lotion before we head home tonight."

  
"Good idea," says Donna.

  
They sunbathe in relative silence for a bit. Donna looks around on the beach and suddenly says, "Hey, I think I recognize that person!"

  
"Who? Where? Should we go say hi?" Logan tries to follow the line of who she's pointing at and can't seem to figure it out.

  
"I think I've seen them around Phoenix Drop," says Donna, "but they're way down there by now and it would be awkward to be wrong. The couple in the red and the purple, walking that way?"

  
"I see them," Logan says, "but yeah, I don't know if I recognize them."

  
They go back to relaxing. The sun is starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the water and the beach. It is... gloriously romantic.

  
"Hey," Donna says softly. She reaches out and takes Logan's hand.

  
"What is it?" Logan asks back.

  
"It just occurred to me..." Donna tries to put silkiness into her voice. It only half works. "It's our pre-honeymoon, and we've barely done any makin' out yet."

  
"We should fix that," Logan says, pulling Donna closer.

  
Donna's phone goes off.

  
The mood shatters to the tune of a generic ringtone. "OH my IRENE, mom, NOW is NOT the TIME," Donna snaps, fumbling in her bag for it. Her finger slips and she accidentally picks up instead of turning it off.

  
"I found a serious problem with the Falcon Claw church," her mother says, crackling through the phone's speaker. "They wouldn't allow me to bring my cats to the ceremony. It looks like we'll have to go with the one in--"

  
Donna hangs up aggressively. "I'm gonna go jump in the ocean."

  
"You know what? Same," says Logan. Donna has already started walking.

  
Both of them dive in for a swim. The cold ocean water is refreshing, and Donna feels some of her pent-up rage melt away. They spend a while swimming. Logan gets out before the sun fully sets, but Donna keeps swimming back and forth until it's just the night sky overhead. She goes to shore, feels sand stick to her feet, and walks back to their towels, where Logan is half-asleep.

  
"Hey," she says, drying herself off with the non-sandy side of her beach towel, "I'm back. Wake up." She waits a few moments, then nudges him gently. "Wake up."

  
"I wasn't asleep," says Logan, even though he very obviously was.

  
"You were," says Donna.

  
"I guess I drifted off," says Logan. "I was stargazing."

  
Donna looks up. "Whoa, they're beautiful." She scans the starry sky. "That line of three, that one's Orion! It's visible in both hemispheres, which is probably why we can still see it."

  
"That's cool," says Logan, and he makes it clear he means it. "Are you still up for that makeout session?"

  
"Yes," says Donna, and they sit side by side on Logan's beach towel, next to the waves, under the stars, and kiss like the world's about to fall apart.

**Author's Note:**

> In the next chapter: More fun times! Do you believe me? It's your choice.


End file.
